The Jianhuren Chronicles
by Status-Low
Summary: Set in an alternate universe somewhere between A:TLA and LoK, the Jianhuren are trained peacekeepers that follow the avatar. Targeted and plagued by controversy, the Jianhuren find themselves struggling to uphold peace for the entire kingdom in an increasingly hostile world. Follow Qiang, a young disciple of the Jianhuren, as she questions just how far the Jianhuren has come.


Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender or any of their characters.  
The characters within, however, are mine.

* * *

She was determined; determined not only to succeed but to excel. Her chance to become an apprentice was coming, yet again, and she was not going to allow it to pass, yet again, without leaving the title of disciple behind and transcending into her new role. This ruminated in her mind as two small spheres spun slowly around each other just inches over her hand. Her fingers made a minute purposeful sweeping with each rotation. Air seeped through her fingers and up across her palm as she breathed steadily, counting from 1 to 10. The black baoding balls brushed each other gently as she rotated them, making a metal on metal grinding sound. The bells inside rustled very gently with each rotation, echoing in the room.

This was a basic meditation exercise that she had easily mastered the physics of and failed to master the application.

Enlightenment came in stages. Amongst the many masters around Haidao she was still regarded as only singularly enlightened. This meant she had not yet achieved enlightenment on a different plane. She was enlightenment gifted, however, which was not rare at the temple. There was a natural predisposition in her for enlightenment, something you could apparently feel or see if you were Awakened as the masters were and was a requirement for Haidao. A disciple needed to at least open one plane of existence beyond their own to become an apprentice.

So she worked tirelessly but despite the appearance of concentration she could not focus. She was continually counting beyond ten. Her legs, crossed with one foot on her knee, were numbing. A conscious correction had her back straight once more. The pillow had begun sagging beneath her and was no longer allowing a natural sitting pose. Merely noticing these facts were glaringly obvious of her failure to meditate.

A darkness had crept across the room as the sun spent its last bit of shine. The darkness drew over her like a cloak and she felt the change beyond her eyes, fully aware of how long she had been sitting. Restless. Despite these things, she remained seated. Although she kept counting, her concentration soon wavered, and at number eleven she growled with frustration and restarted.

The darkness beyond her eyes was inviting and she barely perceived the feeling of slouching for at once she was in the sky. She was flying through darkness. The world was peaceful and silent. Small luminescent sparks rained down in a cascade of fire. Red tendrils licked with the caress of a flame. Pain blossomed across her face and burnt deep into her skin, digging into her bones.

"Qiang."

Startled, she opened her eyes. The baoding balls were on the ground. One had a small crack in it while darkness obscured the other against the wall. A flickering of light came from above her where a pair of wide dancing eyes peered downwards. The black hair, wide nose, and freckled face immediately identified Meng. She swore and sat up, stretching and arranging her outfit.

"You were asleep. Is it the meditation again? Have you been having trouble with the baoding forms? You've been having a lot of trouble with this, lately."

Meng dropped the pillow he was carrying on the ground. With practised motions he walked about the room, lighting the candles, then gave a small puff of air to snuff the one he was holding. Returning to his pillow he rearranged it with a socked foot and then sat down and arranged himself on it. He had sat on his lanky legs in a kneeling position and leaned back slightly. The long sash on his belt was caught in the flowing robes and he rearranged the two.

A fellow disciple, Meng was a year younger than she was. Despite his willingness to help others and offer his opinion and assistance, he was quite incapable of paying attention to his studies, failed at every exercise laid out before him, and yet, somehow, succeeded at meditation. None of these were the reason she disliked him.

"I am distracted today, yes."

"I can help you!" His eyes opened wider and her eyebrows furrowed at his wide-eyed stare accompanied by a wide grin. "Do you want to do a guided meditation?"

"No."

His smile melted.

"Sure?"

"Oh yes."

"Alright."

After a moment of awkward silence, and staring, he finally closed his eyes and began his own meditation. Qiang manipulated the air around the baoding balls and returned them to her palm then stood, grabbed her pillow, and noiselessly padded out the arched doorway. The hallway's sweet scent of vanilla and lime permeated the air. High arched stone hallways mounted the walls, their imposing figures pristine and towering. As she walked history followed along the walls, tracing through time. Expressions woven into stone. They grasped at her, caressing her vision with distraction.

Nevertheless,, a strange shuffling noise caught her ear. The hall stopped just as her feet did. The sound, rough carpet dragging across stone. She turned abruptly then sidestepped into the shadows staring down the hallway she had come. Carpeted flooring negated the concept of a shuffling sound on stone. Her breath caught and sped in quiet, her hands clenched then relaxing into a pose.

She would barely remember what followed.

* * *

"Third disciple in as many days." Kenji's green eyes were peering over a hot, steaming cup of tea.

"This is insane." Rin leaned against the windowsill, her green robes catching with the breeze, eyes flitting from outside back to Kenji.

The intensity of Rin's eyes had always unnerved Kenji. Their brightness a blade skimming along, slicing where they may, dissecting his interior piece by piece. He leaned forward in the wicker chair, green robes shuffling downwards. Something in Rin's gaze caught like a leaf on the water and he feared the depths of it.

"Yes, I agree."

"No, I mean it."

"Yes...And I agree."

"But why...who is targeting the disciples? And why not kill them while you're at it? This all just seems...Just, why? Why just maim them?"

"Master Jin insists it's that Earthbenders."

"Master Jin, might I remind you, is a tinfoil head."

Kenji's eyebrows shot up and Rin flicked her hand dismissively and sighed.

"Okay, she's not, I'm sorry. Just some of the things she says...You don't believe them, do you? All of that conspiracy talk?"

"Obviously."

Rin narrowed her eyes and Kenji's lips quirked upwards at the sides.

"Maybe there's some truth to them, I don't know." Rin sighed. "Shadowbenders. Isn't that what Jin called them?"

"If I recall correctly, yes." Kenji dribbled some tea on his robe and sucked in a breath then began attempting to brush it off onto the handwoven carpet. "I'm afraid for the disciples and apprentices, honestly. We have three trials this month alone. The masters are coming and we won't have a disciple left to show for it, will we? I mean, we're lucky they targeted Qiang. She has a lot of fight judging from the hallway."

"Yes." The glass pinged as she tapped her finger on her barely touched teacup. "She's very ambitious and spars well. She walks a fine line, however. Ambition requires control and temperance, which she is lacking."

"Of course, but back to the maiming..."

Rin's eyes froze on his face and she leaned toward him.

"While Shoji was healing Qiang he recognized the wounds."

"What?" Rin's hands shook and she placed her cup on the table.

"Shirshu claws."

A long pause followed and Rin's face was agape, her eyebrows drawn back, pupils fully exposed.

"But who would they be looking for?"


End file.
